Panic
by SundriedRegrets
Summary: Blaine has always suffered from anxiety attacks. But when a particularly intense attack on leaves him unconscious, it uncovers a long trail of problems that he isn't able to face on his own. TW: Anxiety/Panic Attacks and possible schizophrenia. Klaine AU
1. Blackout

**AN:/ Well I'm just going along with this. I had an idea, and I'm posting it. I've never posted anything before so please go easy on me! With that being said, I don't have a Beta and this was written pretty late at night, so please excuse any spelling mistakes or missing words. :) I'll continue this for sure, but I don't know when I'll have another chapter out, soon. No more than a few days.**

* * *

It all happened at once.

No signs.

No signals.

No warnings.

Blaine was sitting at the table drinking coffee, just letting his mind wander. The cozy apartment he shared with Kurt was quiet, with nothing but the sounds of a low volume television and the ticking of the clock on the wall to be heard. Kurt wasn't home; he had to stay late to work. He had called home a couple of hours ago to let Blaine know he wouldn't be back until around 10. It was 8:26 now, and Blaine was lonely. Blaine was just thinking about how he had papers to do for some classes, and their due dates which were steadily approaching.

Blaine was good with his school work. He was usually the favored student in his classes and his teachers and peers never had anything but kind words to say to or about Blaine. He never had to worry about his grades; they always came out great with little to no effort on Blaine's part.

Blaine was letting his mind wander.

He knew it wasn't the best idea. He knew what often happened when he let his mind wander.

He started thinking about back home, of his parents. Would they approve of his work? Would they approve of his grades? Blaine's parents had wanted him to major in law. "_It's the family business, Blaine. Music is a risky business and we can't have you ruining the family name so you can chase those foolish ungodly expectations of the world." _Well Blaine had held his head high at his father's words. He didn't need either of his parents' approval. He wanted it; sure, it would put him much more at ease every day. But it seemed that he wouldn't be getting that for the time being. He didn't know if his parents would come around some day or not, and his happiness was much more important to him. He refused to waste his life away trying to be something he wasn't trying to satisfy someone else. Blaine wasn't a lawyer and he never intended to be. Besides, Kurt told him to do what he wanted. Kurt said that he can be whatever he wants to be. Blaine didn't need his parents' money, colleges were begging for Blaine to come to them, throwing scholarships to and fro like they were rocks. So it was obvious that Blaine wouldn't need to hang on his parents' every word in hopes that they would fund the path to his dreams.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to not have their approval. That didn't mean that it made him invincible to the pain behind being seen as a failure, when Blaine saw himself as nothing but. It stung. It pierced his heart like nothing else before. He was unable to count the number of times Kurt has had to hold him, whispering words of love into his ear until he cried himself to sleep on his hands.

Blaine's hold tightened on his cup. The all too familiar feeling of _unsought, useless, worthless _filled him. He could feel it sinking into his bones like a bucket of hot water slowly being tipped over him.

Kurt made everything better. _As long as I have Kurt to support me, I'll be fine. If anybody knows what's best for me it's Kurt._ Kurt always made Blaine feel loved and cherished, and as if he had a reason to stick around and be himself. He was always the one person Blaine would turn to with even the simplest of problems, and Kurt would do the same. They had an open, trusting, loving relationship that both of them cherished more than anything ever before.

But Kurt wasn't here now. Blaine was alone and vulnerable to his thoughts.

There was always this voice in Blaine's head. It wasn't always around, but when it was, it seemed its sole mission was to make Blaine feel nothing but inadequate and hate himself. He tried to ignore it, he really tried. But it's just so _loud_, and overpowering, when it spoke, that's all Blaine could hear. It would wait for Blaine to be open and vulnerable for attack and it would take the advantage to strike. Kurt wasn't here, and there wasn't a single thing Blaine could think to do when he hear that familiar voice now. "_Oh, poor Blaine. Mommy and Daddy don't love you. Whatever shall you do? They hate you, you know? They have every reason to do so, too. Who would want a stupid, worthless excuse of a person for a son? You can't do anything on your own. You need Kurt for everything. He thinks you're pathetic, you know? Having to take care of you like you're some kind of __**child**__. Get ahold of yourself, Blaine. Grow up, Blaine. Nobody wants you, Blaine. Nobody will __**ever**__ want you"_

Blaine shook his head, wishing the voice away, his breathing quickening. He could swear the room just became several degrees warmer. "_Just calm down,"_ he told himself. "_I just need to calm down."_

But it was too late. Blaine had let it go on for too far. He listened to that voice and now he doubted everything he had been working to make himself believe, his feeling of safety fell like a coin in water. He could feel himself begin to shake. "_Why don't they love me? I'm something to be proud of, aren't I?"_

"_Of course you aren't who would ever tell you something like that?"_

"_Kurt."_

"_Well Kurt's a fucking liar. He isn't proud of you either."_

"_Why would he lie to me? He loves me."_

"_You and I both know that Kurt doesn't love you. When you cry yourself to sleep in your arms, I bet he complains on and on about how terrible of a person you are. So weak."_

There was a hitch in his throat as he tried to breathe. His blood was rushing, his head was pounding, and he felt as though he was being burned alive. He needed to calm down and get help now before he started hyperventilating and quite possibly passed out. "_I need to call Kurt."_

"_Running back to Kurt __**again**__? When are you going to grow up and stop being so dependent on someone that doesn't even __**want**__ you?"_

"Shut up!" He called out aloud to the voice. He was panicking. Losing the grip on the wheel that was his mind.

He unsteadily stood up from his seat, swaying to and fro, trying to maintain his balance and not do anything that would provoke his breathing to speed up even more. He took a few steps from the table, and lost his balance, causing him to stumble back into the table, knocking his cup off of it, sending it to the ground to shatter.

"_Can't you do __**anything**__ right?"_

"Leave me alone!" He shouted again, but he sounded hysterical, nothing at all like himself.

"_You can't even walk a few steps without breaking something."_

"Please." His voice broke, as he tried again to walk in the direction of his and Kurt bedroom where he has left his phone on the nightstand.

"_This is why nobody will ever want you."_

But Blaine convinced himself to ignore the voice; he didn't have the oxygen to waste on a reply anyway. He reached the hallway, meaning he only had to get to their door that the end of it to get to his phone. To help.

It should have been easy, really, taking a few simple steps to a door. But Blaine felt detached from his body. His breathing was ragged and his swaying had caused him to brace the walls for support. He concentrated on getting where he needed to be, ignoring the voice and its constant screams of _ridiculous, pathetic, _and_ worthless._

He finally reached the door. It was ajar, so a simple push opened it fully and left Blaine a sight of his phone exactly where he had last left it.

He let himself sink to the floor, opting to crawl to it. It wouldn't do him any good to fall and hurt himself on the way there.

He managed to move more quickly now that he had better balance, making it to the nightstand without having to stop. He grabbed the phone and didn't bother to unlock the screen. He tapped **EMERGENCY **button on the bottom of the screen and tapped 5-8-7-8, which was actually K-U-R-T. The two decided it was best that Blaine have Kurt's number ready for emergencies. He had never needed to use the number for an actual emergency, but there's a first for everything.

He tapped call and waited, concentrating on controlling his breathing while he did. His breaths were more like short pants, and they were edging more to wheezes as time went on.

The line rang once until he heard, "Blaine?"

"Ku-" He was cut off by a coughing fit that left him with black around the edges of his vision.

"Blaine? Blaine?" He could hear the urgency behind his voice. It was a few pitches higher than it usually was. He could hear rustling and chatter going on in the background, Kurt talking to someone. He caught a few words that sounded like "have to go" and "and emergency".

_So now he has to leave work? For you? You make me sick. Nobody should ever have to sacrifice anything for you._

"Please. Stop," Blaine croaked. It was all he could manage from his lack of air, which he was getting very little of.

"Blaine? Who are you talking to?" Kurt asked breathlessly, he was running. Blaine could hear the sound of the city in the background. Kurt was coming home.

"Help. Please, Kurt. Help. Can't breathe."

"I'm coming Blaine. Is anybody there with you?"

"No."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Nobody," was all he could get out.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming. I'm almost there."

Blaine didn't say anything, opting to save air.

"Stay with me, Blaine."

"Trying."

"Is it a panic attack?"

"Yes," the black ring around his vision getting thicker and covering more and more with each second that passed.

They haven't gotten this bad in a long time, Blaine. What happened?"

"Please Kurt."

"Alright, just stay with me. I'm going the stairs now."

Blaine couldn't help but simply wheeze in response.

"Blaine you need to try to take more air. I'm at the door, where are you?" Blaine heard the jingle of keys from both the other side of the front door, and the other side of the line.

"Bed… room." Blaine dropped his phone to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest as if it would alleviate his breathing issue or the lump in his throat that was all but chocking him to death.

The door opened and suddenly Kurt was running down the hall, a look of pure concern taking over his features when he saw Blaine crumpled to the floor by the bed, wheezing and coughing uncontrollably.

By the time Kurt had made it to Blaine, he had closed his eyes and let the darkness take his entire line of vision.


	2. Wake Up

**AN:/ Okay, so I wasn't expecting any kind of response with this. I only posted it so I could show a friend something that was playing through my head for the past few days. I'd love to continue this, if there are people interested in reading. So if I should continue, leave a review or something letting me know there's someone reading this :P I've done research on what I want to happen here, and I think I can make this a really entertaining story. But also my first. I have no Beta, so please excuse all mistakes.**

"_Blaine!" _Kurt screamed, dropping to his knees on the ground next to Blaine's body. _What am I supposed to do? What's happening?_ His eyes darted across Blaine's limp form, looking for some clue as to what he was supposed to do now.

He sat back on his knees and put his hands over his face, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, shooing away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. Kurt knew that he would get nothing done if he wasn't thinking straight and freaking out over Blaine's fainting was helping in no way. He thought back to all the weekends that he followed Carol to work before he had met Blaine, desperate for something to do. He thought back to all the mindless information he spewed at him each day he went, searching the back of his head for something helpful.

"_I like to work in the nursing ward. The older people are always so kind, and if you ask nicely enough you can get a good story out of one of them!" Carol chirped, leading Kurt through the halls of the hospital._

"_Right, but aren't they a bit more fragile?" Kurt asked, images of old women struggling to walk up some stairs, clutching on to Life Alerts flashing through his mind._

_Carol sighed, her mood dropping a bit. "You're right about that. You have to be careful doing anything that involves movement when it comes to them. They can even faint sometimes if they get up out of bed too quickly."_

_Kurt, who was not himself a morning person, understood the gratitude that comes from getting out of bed slowly, very slowly. "What are you supposed to do then? If they faint?"_

_Leading Kurt down yet another hall and stopping outside a window Carol, looked through it amiably. "Well it depends, really."_

_Kurt turned to look out the window, noticing that it was a room filled with older patients. This must be the nursing ward. "Then just give me a good old step by step of what to do if someone faints! You never know, one day we could be at home and you'll have inhaled one too many rounds of freshly baked cookie fumes. I'll be there to save you then, and you'll be glad I asked for the knowledge now."_

"_Alright, since you seem to have my best interest in mind." She smiled at Kurt and put a hand on the small of his back from where she was standing side to side with him, moving up then down again before pulling away. It was a touch of comfort, a motherly touch. Something Kurt had been missing out on for 10 years. He was usually very strict on who could touch him and where but Kurt honestly adored Carol and although he knew nobody could ever replace his mother, he still took solace in the fact that Carol accepted that and didn't push him yet he still had a motherly figure to look up to. "Okay, so what you're going to want to do is—I'm assuming they're lying on the ground right now."_

_Kurt laughed, "Of course."_

_Carol raised an eyebrow at him. Kurt, catching onto the look, stifled his laughter and made hand motions for her to continue._

"_You're going to check their pulse and make sure they're still breathing. Then you'll want to position them on their back, and prop their feet up, to make them positioned higher than their head. That way the blood can flow back to their head. Then turn their head to the side."_

"_Turn their head? Why?"_

"_Because you can choke on your own tongue."_

_Kurt looked at her skeptically, eyes wide and jaw dropped. "Really?"_

"_No, not really you goof. Well in a way, yes. But their tongue can block their air way and there is a possibility that they could throw up and we don't want them choking on __**that**__, so just to be sure turn their head to the side."_

_Kurt looked like he was mentally soaking the information up. He had always found things like this interesting, medical facts and procedures. He even told himself at some point that if fashion and theater didn't call to him like a lost lover he might have considered joining the medical branch. "Okay, what next?"_

"_If you can, grab a washcloth and wet it with cool water. Set it on their forehead or neck. If they feel cold to the touch, grab a blanket and drape it over them." She stopped, looking over at Kurt with a small smile on her face._

"_And then..?"_

"_Then you play a special little game I like to call, Wait."_

"_You can't do anything more?"_

"_Not really, no. Don't leave them alone. Unless I've got cookies in the oven, then you better got make sure they don't burn. Don't let my efforts go out in vain."_

_Kurt hung his head and chuckled. Carol did have a great sense of humor. "Okay, then what am I to do when you wake up?"_

"_I think I'll have enough sense not to, but don't let me get up so soon. Make me stay down for a while and keep my feet elevated. After a few minutes, let me sit up. After a few more minutes, let me try standing up, but be there for me because I could faint again." She said, with a roll of her eyes. "It sounds very cinematic, I know, but it happens all the time. They're up. They look fine, but as soon as they try standing, they're out cold and you're back at step one."_

Kurt looked down at Blaine's crumpled form. He was on his side, lying down in a fetal sort of position. Kurt slowly and gently pushed him onto his back, leaning over his face, ear above Blaine's mouth. He could feel the warm breath ghosting over the skin and he shivered, more from how shallow it sounded than the actual heat of it affecting him. But he sounded a bit better than when we were conscious and over the phone. He wasn't wheezing anymore, and that was always a good sign.

It was obvious to Kurt that Blaine had fainted because of hyperventilation. He didn't know what had gotten him so worked up that he started in the first place, but if the broken coffee cup on the floor in the kitchen was any implication, it had started back there. Blaine wasn't one to have a terrible temper, so Kurt doubted that Blaine had purposely let the cup break.

Recalling the next step, he turned Blaine's head to the side, away from the bed. That way he could get clean, fresh air instead of whatever was under their bed. Doing that, he could hear Blaine's breathing volume grow. By now, he had forgotten all about his own feelings and thrown himself into making sure Blaine was okay. Kurt's face was the definition of calm, his features relaxed and in control. _Blaine's going to be fine._

By then he realized he had skipped a step in his earlier haste, standing up and snatching every single pillow off of their bed. Kurt had some infatuation with pillows, or decor in general, so there were quite a few on the bed. He piled them up by Blaine's feet and lifted his legs so they were propped up on the pile. Then moving to the bathroom to get and wet a washcloth, bringing it back to Blaine and laying it across his forehead. Blaine didn't feel cold to the touch, so he just left him like that.

Kurt sunk down to the ground and leaned over Blaine again, kissing both of his closed eyelids and whispering sweetly "Wake up, Blaine."

"_Look at you. You're pathetic. So you see what you do? Do you see why nobody wants you? You don't deserve Kurt. He could do so much better than you."_ There was that voice again.

"_Just leave me alone!" _Blaine internally screamed at himself. Was he really unconscious? Did Kurt really come home for him?

"_Why wouldn't he come home? A grown man impersonating a baby called him, unable to even speak in complete sentences. I'd go the fuck home too. To kick your ass though for bothering me, for being a pain that's all you've ever been is a pain, Blaine."_

"_That rhyming made it a bit less hurtful, just so you know."_ Blaine had had enough of this voice harassing him.

"_Fuck you," _the voice sneered at him, its tone seeping venom.

"_If you hate me so much, why are you here?" _

"_Stop talking to yourself, you fucking nitwit."_

"Wake up, Blaine," it was Kurt's voice. He could hear it echoing throughout the depths of his mind.

Blaine had to wake up. He couldn't stand to be trapped inside his own mind in black darkness, stuck arguing with himself? No. He fought for control of his body, for control of his eyes, wishing he could pry them open to get a view of those beautiful glasz ones he could stare into forever. Those eyes that he could feel searching his soul, knocking over every wall Blaine had built up and securing himself there in trust from Blaine.

He fought and used as much force as he could muster. Slowly he felt his eyes flutter as he took in what he could, his eyes focusing in the room that was near void of light, what little there was, floating in through the window from the moon. His breath hitched and he let out a short cough.

"Oh thank god," that familiar voice breathed, sounding more relieved. "I was going to call 911 again if you didn't wake up soon."

"911?"

"Yes, 911. You've been out for some time now. I was starting to get worried. I had already called once after I set this up," he said, gesturing to the pillow pile and the washcloth still draped across Blaine's forehead. "But they said to just give you time, that there wasn't really anything they could do after I told them your condition."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. What are you supposed to say when you have to force your boyfriend to leave work early so he could rush home to watch you pass out on their bedroom floor? Thank you? "Thank you."

"What do you mean thank you?" Kurt seemed more than confused.

"Thank you. For being here? For helping me…" Blaine was getting nervous, and uncomfortable. He knew it was selfish of him to call Kurt. This wasn't his problem. Blaine was a grown man that should be able to take care of himself. But it was clear that he couldn't. He wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously, trying to shield himself from the impending sneer or taunt that was sure to be sent his way, avoiding all eye contact with Kurt.

"Oh Blaine," Kurt sighed.

"I'm so-" Blaine started, about to go off on a list of things that he knew Kurt should be upset with him for.

"No, Blaine. I'm not hearing any of that," Kurt cut him off, a small smile on his face. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. And if you're upset that you had to call, don't be! Just don't. You needed me and you're more important than some stupid job. I was more than ready to come home, anyway. Jessica's been a pain in my ass all day," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It worked. Blaine looked up and smiled at him, sending his thanks through eye contact.

Blaine looked over to the clock on the nightstand that his phone was on top of. The bright blue lights displayed 10:46.

"Oh god, I've been out for two hours?"

Kurt only looked at him while he slowly nodded. "Do you think you're up for sitting up?"

"Yes, please," Blaine said moving to sit up before Kurt's hands moved under his arms.

"Alright easy now. Don't move too quickly and try to keep your feet elevated." He chastised and slowly helped Blaine to sit up, back against the side of their bed.

Here comes Nurse Kurt. He made special appearances when Blaine was under serious stress, sick, or just having a bad day. Blaine loved all the extra care and affection, he really did, but he couldn't stand the feeling that he was somehow imposing. The last thing he wanted to do was bother Kurt. That didn't stop him from pecking Kurt on the cheek before he pulled away after helping Blaine, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

Kurt smiled down at him before moving to pull the comforter off of their bed and wrap it around their bodies, snuggling in close to Blaine with his head under Blaine's chin.

"So how was work?" Kurt knew not to delve straight into questions about what happened with Blaine, he knew that he needed to wait for Blaine to tell him what happened and caused him to have an attack so intense to have him pass out, and for that Blaine was more than thankful. So Kurt dove into the subject of today's work on the job, not sparing any of the small little details, with Blaine hanging on his every word.


	3. Light in the Darkness

After a whole half an hour rant on Kurt's annoyance for his assigned model, Jessica, Blaine's stomach makes a cry for attention, signaling the end of the topic.

Kurt lifted his head from the space under Blaine's chin, pecking Blaine on the nose. "Hungry are we?"

Blaine grins shyly, "I was planning on making a surprise dinner, for my obviously hard worker, but…" He trails off looking uncomfortable, a grimace forming on his lips and brows knitting themselves together.

Without missing a beat, Kurt says, "Well what do you say to late night takeout?" _We'll talk when he's ready._

Blaine lets out a breath he wasn't aware of holding, a sigh of relief, and looks up at Kurt with a small smile. "I say that sounds wonderful."

Giving Blaine a reassuring smile, Kurt slowly extracts himself from the warm cocoon that is Blaine and the comforter from their bed. When he gets about arm's length away from Blaine's face he sits back and studies it. Blaine looks like himself, albeit the flicks of internal conflict that slip through his eyes are visible to Kurt's careful eye, but he looks rested and like himself. Aside from waiting for Blaine to spill his issues, there's nothing more Kurt can do but to move on. Though Blaine would never tell him so, he wants Kurt to forget about the incident until he's ready to talk about it. Kurt has learned from past, much smaller issues not to address the problem directly. Whenever he had, he was left with an unresponsive, stubborn Blaine that slept on the couch and further avoided all contact with Kurt until he was ready, which was never really longer than one day. It used to make Kurt angry that Blaine would shut him out in such a way, but taking Blaine's past and family into consideration, he let it go and waited out Blaine's shutouts with open arms.

Nurse Kurt presumably satisfied with the state of his, leans in for a soft kiss and an "I love you" whispered against Blaine's lips before moving off of him completely and standing up, bringing the blanket with him and tossing the crumpled ball of fabric onto their bed once more.

He looks down to Blaine who's watching him expectantly, seemingly waiting for something. That's great. He knows to wait for the OK from Nurse Kurt to move.

"Alright, up you go! And slowly please," he says reaching a hand down to Blaine in offering that he has no choice but to take if he doesn't want to face the wrath of Nurse Kurt. Remembering what Carol said regarding caution when standing up, Kurt thinks better of it, instead he pulls his hand back and settles for reaching both of his arms underneath Blaine's and slowly hauling him up. When he's standing up straight, he hugs Blaine to his chest, still retaining his two or three inch height advantage throughout the years. This serves as both an intimate position that Kurt can use to further convey himself as a place of safety and keeps Blaine from hitting the ground if he faints once more.

Hugging back, Blaine rests his head on Kurt's shoulder, turning his face inward to Kurt's neck. He closes his eyes and kisses the warm skin there. "Thank you."

Kurt can hear more behind those two words. Blaine isn't just thanking him for helping him up, or rushing home from work; Blaine is thanking him for everything. Kurt is well aware of the fact that not everybody would be so caring and considerate towards Blaine. He knows that Blaine truly trusts him, which he values more than anything, and would do nothing to abuse or give reason to doubt. Blaine isn't a chore, it isn't something he feels he's being forced to do, but something he needs to do to feel whole. They're a package deal to Kurt now. He refuses to do anything that would put Blaine in harm's way or simply make him uncomfortable, because Blaine's happiness means everything to him.

Knowing the underlying meaning of Blaine's words, he simply responds with, "Anything for you." into Blaine's hair, inhaling the sweet scent that is Blaine.

After a long moment of enjoying their intimate embrace, Blaine once again kisses the skin of Kurt's neck before moving back and looking Kurt in the eyes with his own full of adoration shining through. "It's definitely going to be late night takeout now! It's nearly 11:30!"

Throwing a glance at the clock, Kurt chuckles when he sees the shining blue 11:23.

"Do they even deliver this late?" Kurt's last intention is to take Blaine out to a public place after what happened, not tonight.

"Well I guess we'll have to call and find out, won't we?"

Kurt ended up walking them both back into the living room, the broken mug in the kitchen long ago cleaned up. Shooing Blaine to go sit down and rest somewhere, Kurt goes on a scavenger hunt for the phone book. His phone was dead and he didn't feel like finding the charger and turning it on to be harassed by Jessica's texts asking why he ran out on work that he had gotten a taste of before he let it die. Kurt had promised his boss, Anastasia, a full explanation on Monday for his early dismissal and she was the only person he owed an explanation to. Kurt doesn't have to tell Jessica his whole life story, she was nosey enough to ask for it though she doesn't actually care or show any consideration towards others aside from herself. With an eye roll Kurt thought, _Jessica can screw off_. Kurt really dislikes Jessica.

Finding the phonebook in the cabinet above the refrigerator, Kurt calls the number to the nearest Chinese restaurant with their house phone. With fingers crossed, he asks if they deliver. The woman on the other end huffed out "After 11 is fifteen dollars extra."

With furrowed eyebrows Kurt hisses out, "Fifteen dollars extra?!"

They were only a couple of blocks away and they were trying to charge him an extra fifteen dollars? Kurt's more than positive she's only saying that because he asked.

"You want food. You pay extra. Or come get it yourself."

"Fine. Whatever." After rattling off their address Kurt follows with, "Can I speak to your manager?" He's in full bitch mode now. He would pay extra because they're hungry and regardless of what Blaine might try to tell Kurt, he's in no condition to go out, but this woman has a bad attitude and Kurt's ready to give her boss a piece of his mind.

"I am manager. Food get there in twenty-five minutes. Thank you ma'am," And with that she hangs up in his face.

"Ugh." That's New York for you. Leaving behind Lima 4 years ago, Kurt left behind the homophobes and unfortunately large group of closed minded conservatives in favor of the bustling, never sleeping city. It was a bit difficult to adjust when he first got here, because he was alone. When he left McKinley to go to Dalton, he ended up losing most of his friends that he left behind, including Rachel. They didn't value Kurt or his friendship, so he gladly let them go, ceasing all efforts to maintain contact and friendship. Rachel and Finn had even broken up once and for all. So when he moved to New York to go to NYADA, he went alone. So it was an experience, to say the least. He had so much freedom and opportunity and he loved it. After his first year, up in the city, Blaine graduated and moved up with him, also going to NYADA.

Kurt's parents were more than happy to help with their living expenses, but the pair wanted to be independent and opted to get jobs on the side. After two years at NYADA Kurt had been offered an internship to , which he gladly accepted. By the end of that summer, Vogue had taken note of Kurt's natural talent and quickly offered him a full time job, which Kurt had also gladly accepted, dropping out of NYADA. Vogue paid very well and had allowed for the couple to move to a much nicer loft than the first they had been sharing, this one with much more space and an extra room that held guitars, a bookshelf, a few couches, and television. It was easy to say that they were both living the dream, slowly making their way up the ladder to success.

Dropping the phone back on the counter with a huff, Kurt gave himself a few moments to let his temper cool down. After a couple of deep breaths, he realized there was music softly playing in the living room.

Intrigued, he walks to the living room to find Blaine with his eyes closed playing a song on the piano. He wasn't singing but Kurt was able to tell what song he was playing after listening closely for a few moments. He would. It was "Pretend That You're Alone" by Keane.

Still playing with his eyes closed and a smirk pulling itself at his lips he said, "Fifteen dollars extra for what?"

Rolling his eyes at the reminder of the woman on the phone, "For delivery. That entire restaurant is run by con artists."

The smirk now grown to a full blown smile Blaine says, "But that's the beauty of New York for you, Kurt!"

"Yeah, beauty that costs me an extra fifteen dollars," crossing his arms over his chest, head tilted to the side.

"The best things in life cost money," he opens one of his eyes to send a wink Kurt's way.

"Are you getting sexual with me? With this song? I wasn't aware that you were for sale. Shut up and sing the song Gandhi," he giggles out.

"As you wish! Let me serenade you with my song of love," he says as though it were a grandiose action, both eyes open but narrowed as though he were trying to stare into Kurt's soul. Kurt only laughs because the song's so ridiculous.

_We are just the monkeys who fell out of the trees_

_We are blisters on the earth_

_And we are not the flowers, we're the strangling weeds in the meadow_

_And love is just our way of looking out for ourselves_

_When we don't want to live alone_

Blaine looks at Kurt pointedly, as if he's trying to convey truth behind the line. But he can't keep a straight face and half sings half laughs through the next line.

_So step into the vacuum, tear off your clothes and be born again_

Blaine looks pointedly at Kurt again wagging his eyebrows suggestively, while Kurt puts his hand in front of his mouth, looking scandalized.

_Pretend that you're alone now and everything's gone_

_Just animal reflexes no one looking on_

_Forget about fashion, forget about the law_

_Pretend that you're alone now_

Kurt runs into the kitchen and returns with a small bucket and a spatula, a makeshift drum. He dances circles around the piano and sings along.

_I wonder what I'd do if I could wake up every morning with a clean slate_

_I'd burn through the cities and tear through the towns because there's no deals to make_

_So break out of the cages, the delicate structures we cling to all our lives_

_Because we are just the monkeys who fell out of the trees_

_When we were trying to fly_

He drops the bucket and spatula on the ground and quickly runs to the couches jumping from one to the other, imitating sounds of a monkey. It was such an un-Kurt action for Kurt to perform that Blaine actually stumbles on the next few chords and lyrics, jaw dropping from shock. Kurt sends a look his way and he quickly regains use of his mouth and hands.

_Pretend that you're alone now and everything's gone_

_Just primal desire, no right and no wrong_

_Forget about the future, forget about blame_

_Pretend that you're alone now_

Coming back toward the piano and retrieving the materials to his drum, he continues on, dancing and singing along.

_She's not waiting for tomorrow_

_And she has no love in her eyes_

Kurt stops on the side opposite of Blaine in front of the piano, giving him a sad look with puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip.

_Oh no, I want to come down right now_

_Pull over, I want to get out right now_

He shouts out the Oh, Oh's and runs behind Blaine, banging his drum loudly next to his ear for a couple of beats before halting to peck him on his ear. He then begins circling Blaine again.

The song continues on just like that. It's the most silly and ridiculous way to sing the song, but it works for them and they both just go with it. Kurt circles around Blaine numerous times, stopping sometimes to dance sometimes suggestively, others not. Blaine laughs and smiles so hard he can no longer sing some lines correctly or stumble on the lyrics or chords some more.

_Pretend that you're alone now and everything's gone_

_Just animal reflexes no one looking on_

_Forget about religion, forget about shame_

_Pretend that you're alone now_

_No numbers in your phone now there's nothing going on_

_Just primal desire, no right and no wrong_

_Forget about fashion, forget about fame_

_Pretend that you're alone now_

When they reach the end, Blaine's laughing so hard he's crying and Kurt drags himself to the couch and plops down, chest heaving with all the running and dancing, abandoning his drum on the ground on the way there.

"Well," Blaine manages to get out through his tears.

"Well, what?" Kurt giggles.

"That was… interesting, to say the least," his laughter very slowly beginning to die out.

"And you loved every minute of it!" Kurt says unashamed. He sticks his chin out from his slouched form on the couch and sends Blaine a look of conquest.

"I can't for a second deny that."

"Great! That means that I get to request something!" Kurt shoots up straight in his seat, already looking excited.

"I didn't know that was how the system worked but okay, yeah, sure," he says merely chuckling and seeming to gain control of his breathing. He sits up on the bench, wiping tears from his eyes and looking expectantly at Kurt.

"You already know what I want," he smirks.

He puts his hands up in defense. "I didn't want to assume!"

Bouncing in his seat, "Yeah, yeah! Get on with it!"

"Geeze such a pushy crowd tonight" he mumbles out as he situates himself on the bench. He sends one final look at Kurt and plays the first chord. Kurt squeals quietly and claps his hands. He loves when Blaine plays this song. It would forever be their song. It's special to the both of them, more than just a song. It's a musical representation of the moment Kurt fell for Blaine. But not only that, Blaine looked so passionate while he played. His face just emanates emotion and the love Blaine feels for him is palpable in the air during those moments. Blaine's face one moment calm and peaceful, the next burning with what seems to be anger but is actually passion.

This was the song that Blaine had used for his audition to NYADA, and he couldn't have picked a better song. It was perfect, it showcased every single angle of his talent and had the whole room silent when he sung the final lyrics and keyed the final chords. Just like now. When he finishes, both of the pair silent, he looks up through his long, dark eyelashes into Kurt's eyes from across the room. Kurt's breath catches in his throat. It was such a powerful look, as though Blaine were silently looking for acceptance, to know that he had done well. Kurt blinks a couple of times a huffed out a breath before quickly getting out of his seat and taking long strides to Blaine, sitting in his lap and kissing him heatedly on the mouth.

After a few minutes on the bench the both get up and make their way to the couch, groping and whining into each other's mouths, their mouths never once breaking contact.

They keep backing up until the back of Blaine's knees hit the couch, prompting Kurt to push him down onto his back.

Blaine, chest heaving and lips bruised, makes grabby hands for Kurt. Once Kurt was leaning down far enough he curled his fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down with one arm while the other pulled his body on top of him.

And like this they continued. Tongues fighting for dominance and hands roaming underneath shirts to feel the taut, defined muscles of the other and into hair. They're both aware that someone will be knocking on their door to deliver their food soon, so they both refrain from getting too carried away. But that doesn't keep either of them from groaning aloud when they hear what sounded like a fist pounding angrily at their door.

Kurt let out a broken sounding, "Coming!"

"Yeah, I wish," Blaine huffs out with a look balanced between annoyed and longing.

"Oh god," Kurt's cheeks warming as he sets his head down onto Blaine's shoulder breathing in his scent and catching his breath before he gets up, swatting Blaine's grabby hands away, and makes his way to the door, plucking his wallet off of the counter on the way.

"Fifteen dollar for food. Fifteen dollar for delivery. Fifteen dollar tip," the Asian man says before the door even cracked, palm out and facing up, expectant.

Kurt just looks at him for a moment. His brows furrowed, lips quirked up at the corners, and head tilted slightly.

The two of them simply stare at each other, both stubborn. Kurt was actually looking for the correct words to bitch out at the man, "Listen here-"

Suddenly Blaine was at his side, pulling him out of the doorway and stepping in his place, money in hand and charming smile ready.

"What I think he means to say is that we'll give you fifteen dollars for the food and fifteen for the delivery," he says slowly, measured, taking the brown paper bag out of the man's hand and replacing it with both a ten and twenty dollar bill in the man's hand.

"No actually. What I mean to say is-"

"Thank you for your service. Have a good night," Blaine rushes out, closing the door. Once it's closed, he turns to face the daggers Kurt's staring at him.

"You should have let me give it to him," says bitchy Kurt.

"We didn't need to make a scene, Kurt. We just won't call them anymore!" Blaine says dismissively, carrying the bag into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table and tossing two pillows on the floor to sit on.

"They called me ma'am on the phone! You bet your ass we won't call them anymore!" He plops down on one of the pillows pulling the television remote from in between the couch cushions behind him. Turning on the television, he changes the channel to a Project Runway marathon on Lifetime.

"Ooh! I love this episode!" Blaine says, plopping down on the pillow next to Kurt, kissing him on the cheek before rummaging through the bad for his food.

Kurt hummed, "Me too…" his anger already dissipating, Bitchy Kurt reeling in his claws.

They sit and criticize each and every fashion designer. Blaine mostly reveling in the sound of Kurt's voice again stating how none of them know what they're doing and oh god how can they call themselves professionals and the taste of his food, which he eats all of and even picks off of Kurt's plate, who doesn't seem to mind since he starts feeding Blaine with his chopsticks.

Several episodes and yawns elicited by both parties later, they decide to take a quick shower together before bed.

Under the how spray they took turns washing each other. One lathers the other's body with the cucumber body wash, massaging the muscles as they went, while the recipient rests their head on the other's shoulder humming out sounds of appreciation.

When they both clean and start to sway, still under the rinse, Kurt pulled them out and turned off the water. Then they take turns toweling each other off. They walk naked back to their bedroom and dress shirtless with briefs. While Blaine retrieves all the pillows from the floor and tosses them to the head of the bed, Kurt untangles the mess of blanket.

Blaine tumbles into their bed and crawls over to Kurt, tackling him down and settling half of his body on top of his with his head on the elder's chest. Kurt pulls the blanket above both of their bodies and reaches over to turn off the lamp on their nightstand.

Quickly lulling himself to sleep to the sound of Blaine's even breathing, Kurt's last thoughts are of how glad he is that he could take Blaine's mind off of his attack, even for just a short while.

* * *

**AN/: Okay. So I know this chapter is different and that's really how I wanted it to be. Blaine is still _Blaine. _He just has issues sometimes. I thought it was a bit important to give some insight on the dynamic of his and Kurt's relationship. I'm sorry for the hiatus.. I have excuses but whatever. I'm here now and I'll hope to update more often with quality writing now that I have a beta.**


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